Send me an Angel
by princey666
Summary: Dean Winchester life is spiraling out of control. His father is an maniac obsessed with hunting down a monster who is never home leaving him to take care of his kid brother, Sammy, who's only wish is to be normal and blames Dean for the life that they live. Enters Castiel, a quiet boy with a hidden past, and the only constant in his hectic life. Highshool AU
1. Chapter 1

"Where's mommy?" Sweet brown eyes shifted up to meet hazel. Dean bite his lip as his looked at his younger brother.

"Mommy's gone," Dean said softly, trying to hide the pain on his voice. It had been three years since that night and it was still painful to remember. He missed his mommy.

"Where'd she go?" Sammy's thumb shifted to his mouth, finding home between shell pink lips.

"I dunno," Dean murmured gently as he grabbed hold of Sammy's hand. "Now I tell you about sucking on your thumb?" He scolded lightly.

"Not to do it..." Sammy pouted as he looked to the ground.

"That's right," Dean smiled softly at his little brother. "Come on, let's get you ready for bed."

"But I'm not tired!" Came the usual comeback, followed shortly after by a yawn.

"But heroes need their rest!" Dean exclaimed, eyes wide. "If you don't get your rest then you can't be a hero and you can't save the world."

Sammy's new obsession of late had to do with heroes. True be told it was cute... until he made a cape out of the motel curtains...

"What happens if heroes don't get sleep?" Sammy asked.

"They loose all of their powers!"

Sammy gasped in fright. "No!"

Dean nodded earnestly. "Uh huh. And that's why we have to hurry and get you into bed before that happens to Super Sammy."

Sammy nodded quickly, giving his consent. Dean stood and turned to Sammy who held his arms out. Dean heaved his brother into his arms, grunting slightly at the weight. Though Sammy was a few years younger than him he was hefty for a three year old. Sammy complied sleepily as he carried him back to their bed, having to stop and shift the weight a few times. When he laid Sammy into the bed they shared he quickly changed him into his little footsie pajamas, the ones with Spiderman on them, and tucked him into bed. Sammy watched him with tired eyes, moving only when necessary.

"Good night Sammy," Dean whispered softly, kissing his brothers forehead.

Sammy yawned loudly, eyes screwing shut before he turned onto his side, curling into a ball. His thumb slowly found its way to his mouth. Dean sighed fondly and decided to let it be.

"Night Dean," Sammy yawned again. Dean turned to leave, planning on watching some show on the telly or reading reading a book book, until Sammy spoke again

"I hope mommy comes home soon," it was only a small whisper, slurred by sleep and obscured by a thumb, but it caused Dean to flinch slightly, eyes cast upon the ground. Blood and dark shadows flashed across his vision. He froze only briefly before taking a deep breath, his small chest heaving, and leaving his brother for the company of a mindless show in the hopes it would keep the tears at bay.

"How was school?" Dean asked as he picked Sammy up from his first day of kindergarten.

Sammy made a face, holding his hand out. Dean laughed as he snatched the small hand.

"That bad, huh?"

Sammy scowled. "She made us take a nap,"

"She?"

"Ms. Coin, the teacher. She's mean and is sometimes crabby, but she likes cats so I guess she's okay."

Dean laughed at his little brothers ramblings. "Sounds like someone had an interesting day."

"It was okay. We got cookies at snack time," Sammy looked up at him. "What about you? How was your day? Is your teacher mean and horrible like Ms. Coin?"

Dean shrugged, "It was okay. Not nearly as interesting as the day you had!" Sammy nodded as though he had been told something profound, his small features forming a look of deep concentration. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but instead got distracted as a butterfly flew his way. Dean laughed at his brothers frantic attempts to catch the winged insect.

He smiled fondly as he watched Sammy. Though his day had been awful it didn't seem to matter at the moment. So what if he had gotten beat up on the playground or that Jones kid took his lunch or that he had gotten in trouble for something he didn't do, seeing his brother laughing with a carefree smile made everything just a bit brighter.

"Sammy," Dean finally called. "Come on, we have to get home,"

Sammy obediently ran over, flushed and sweaty. Dean took his hand once more and they continued on their way.

'Home' this time was a rundown little motel that smelled of air fresheners. It was better than the last one. They had a working toilet and a vending machine down the hall!

As the motel came into view Sammy decided to pipe up again.

"Why did mommy leave us?"

The question stopped Dean in his steps. Sammy stopped and looked curiously at him, head cocked slightly to the side. Dean looked to the ground, trying to breathe around the tight feeling in his chest. He didn't like remembering her, his mother. Drops of blood slowly began to cloud his vision as _that _night commanded his attention. His breathing heightened and tears welled in his eyes. Nails bit into the soft skin of his palm as he clenched them tight.

"Dean?" Sammy asked, suddenly very frightened. "Dean? What's wrong? Why aren't you moving?"

Sammy grabbed at his hand. He quickly shook his head, brandishing those memories from his head. He gave a small smile to his scared brother.

"I'm sorry Sammy. Guess I just got lost in thought,"

Sammy nodded, unconvinced, holding Dean's hand tight. "Does it have something to do with mommy?"

"It's nothing Sammy," his smile became strained as he began walking. "Let's go get some dinner,"

"But Dean," Sammy whined, "You never answered my question,"

Dean's strides became faster, nearly dragging his brother behind him.

"I'm fine Sammy,"

He was nearly running now, trying desperately to escape those memories.

"What about mommy? Why did she leave us?"

He whirled around, face tight with anger, jerking Sammy to a stop. "Stop asking about mommy Sam!" he yelled. "Stop it, just STOP!"

Sammy paled, eyes wide, before tears began to roll down his cheeks. Guilt swept through Dean as Sammy pulled his hand away to wipe at the tears. He quickly got down at his knees, pulling Sammy into a close hug.

"I'm sorry Sammy, I didn't mean to yell," he murmured soothingly as he stroked his brothers hair. "I am so sorry. Please don't cry no more. I didn't mean it."

Sammy hiccuped slightly as he looked up at his brother. "Are you mad at me?" his tiny voice wavered with tears, eyes still watering.

"Oh no no no no no no," Dean pulled his brother into a tight hug. "I could never be mad at you. I was just being an idiot. Everything is okay."

Sammy pulled back a little to look at him before holding a pinky out. "Pinky promise?"

Dean smiled wanly as he wrapped his finger around Sammy's, "Pinky promise,"

Sammy smiled, tears forgotten. Dean pressed a quick kiss to Sammy's forehead before standing.

"Come on, let's get home." Dean said. "I'll let you pick what you want for dinner,"

Sammy cheered as he led his brother home, missing the gleam of tears in his brothers eyes.

Sammy fidgeted slighly, glancing over to where Dean sat at the table doing homework. He bit his lip and gathered his courage before jumping off the couch. As he approached his brother he pretended that he was a brave knight going into battle, just like in the stories Dean would read to him at night. There was a princess to save from a ferocious dragon and he was a one who had to do it. He had to be brave though, which was hard, but that's okay, everyone was a little scared sometimes. His brother had told him it was okay to be scared.

Upon reaching his brother he took another deep breath and peered over the table. Even though he was seven he still had to stand on tiptoe to see over the top. He was the smallest boy in his class, which was not fair. Dean said he was going to stay small forever. Even though his brother was never wrong he really hoped he wasn't going to be small forever. He wanted to grow up and be big and strong like Dean!

Dean looked down in surprise at his brother, who currently looked in deep thought, though the profound child look was ruined by the fact he was on tippy toes and had his chin resting on the edge of the table. In fact, it was quite adorable.

"Need anything kid?" he asked, glancing down at his maths problems.

"Dean, can I ask you something?" Sammy asked fearfully. Dean marked the tone and turned his full attention to his brother, setting his pencil down.

"Of course you can. You can ask me anything." Dean replied earnestly.

"Do you promise you won't get mad?"

Dean's eyebrows hitched in surprise before furrowing in worry. He licked his lips before sticking his pinky finger out. "I pinky promise,"

Sammy completed the promise with solemn nod. Dean waited patiently for Sammy to continue he was silent.

"Sammy, what did you want to ask?" he finally prompted.

"I-I… Iwantedtoaskyouwhymommyhatesme?" Sammy's question came out in a single word, throwing Dean into confusion.

"Wait, wait, what? Repeat that again, but slower please,"

Sammy took a deep breath. "I wanted to know why mommy hates me?" he mumbled, ducking his head.

"Why mommy hates you?" Dean repeated aghast.

Sammy nodded, shoulders shaking slightly as he waited for an answer. Dean stared down at his brothers small form, suddenly realizing how fragile he was. Sighing, Dean stood and picked up his brother, grunting slighly at the weight. He took them to the couch and sat down, sitting Sammy across from him. Sammy curled up into a ball, refusing to look him in the eye.

Taking a breath Dean began. "Sammy, why do you think mommy hates you?"

Sammy shifted uncomfortably. "Stan Pearson said that only mommies who hate their children leave and she left right after I was born so that means she must have hated me a lot." Sammy's hands twisted in his lap, biting his lip as he waiting for his brother to say something.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. He reached down and grabbed Sammy's chin, forcing Sammy to look at him.

"Sammy I want you to listen to me and listen close. Mommy loved you. She loved you very, very much. She could have never hated you."

"Then why did she leave!?" Sammy interrupted, bursting into tears.

Dean took a deep breath to steady his wavering voice. "She didn't leave Sammy," he whispered, looking away.

"But, then, where is she?"

Dean looked down before pulling Sammy into his lap. "Do you really want to know?"

Sammy nodded earnestly.

"She's in heaven," Dean said, voice thick was tears.

"How did she get up there?"

"She died…" Sammy gasped, eyes wide. Dean bit his lip, hiding his face in his brothers hair.

"How did she die?"

Dean took a shuddering breath, clinging tightly to his brother. Tears threatened to drown him but he forced them down as he continued.

"When you were really little a monster came. He came in the middle of the night and-" Dean's voice broke off before continuing, "-and killed her…"

Sammy blinked several times before looking up at his brother. Dean still had his head bowed, shoulders shaking. Slowly, Sammy raised a hand to Dean's face, gasping when he found it was wet.

"Dean!" he cried out, "Are you crying?"

"No," Dean muttered, shaking his head back and forth in denial.

"You're lying," Sammy said softly in realization.

He stood and pulled his brothers head into his chest, stroking Dean's hair like Dean always did for him when he was sad. "It's okay now," Sammy said, "Don't cry brother, it'll all be okay."

Dean cried harder at his brothers words, unable to stop. Sammy continued to hold him, murmuring 'it'll be okay' every so often. After some time Dean forced himself together. He lifted his head and smiled at Sammy.

"Thank you Sammy, I'm all better now,"

A delighted smile stole over Sammy's face. "Yay!" Dean laughed softly as a big, sloppy kiss was placed on his cheek.

As Dean stared into Sammy's bambi eyes he couldn't help the guilt that racketed around his body. He had just spent the last half hour crying to a seven year old. A seven year old shouldn't have to see their brother crying, shouldn't have to promise that everything will be okay. That was the older brothers job, that was his job. Sammy was just a kid. So, as Sammy decided it was story time, Dean vowed that he would never cry in front of Sammy again, that he would protect his little brother no matter what.

That night John Winchester came home for the first time the three weeks. Upon finding out what his oldest son had done he was furious.

"You told him what?" John demanded.

Dean swallowed hard, "I told him about mommy,"

"What would possess you to tell a seven year old that? He's seven for christ's sake! Let him be a child for just a little longer!"

Dean flinched with every word. "I'm sorry sir,"

"You damn right better be sorry," John growled. "What the bloody hell were you thinking? Oh, that's right, you weren't thinking!"

"I'm sorry dad, I promise, it won't happen again,"

"It better not or else I'm whooping your ass," John threatened. Dean flinched at the thought. "I mean really. Telling a child something like that. What's wrong with you?" He shrugged, shaking his head in despair as he headed towards the kitchen.

"He thought mommy hated him," Dean said softly, trying to defend himself.

John froze. He slowly turned towards Dean, who was shaking in fear. "What?" he asked, voice shaking in anger.

Dean stayed silent, afraid of speaking. He didn't want to say the wrong thing again. He had already screwed up too much today.

John, taking the silence as a form of defiance, grabbed Dean by the collar, pulling him close. "You answer me when I ask you something boy?" he hissed. "Now, what did you say?"

"S-sammy thought that m-m-mommy h-hated h-him…" Dean managed to choke out. His father let him go, nearly sending him to the floor.

"Why would he think something like that?" John asked. His eyes landed on Dean and narrowed. "What lies have you been telling him about Mary?"

"None," Dean cried out, throwing his hands up. "I promise!"

John snorted. "Like your promise actually means anything. You're just a lying little bastard. Why can't you be more like your brother, huh?"

Dean bit his lip to stop the tears that wanted to overflow. He had made a vow and he wasn't going to break it on the same day.

John glared at his son for a few more minutes before heading towards the kitchen again. "Stupid brat," he tossed over his shoulder. "Go to bed,"

Dean scurried into the room he shared with Sammy. Sammy was already fast asleep, clutching at a small stuffed rabbit that Dean had given him for his third birthday.

Still shaking in fear Dean changed into pajamas and curled up in bed next to Sammy, trying to sleep. The shaking stopped after an hour but sleep refused its mercy until the sun began peeking over the horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean scrunched his eyes shut as light began pouring in the window. It felt as though he had only fallen asleep a moment ago. Light continued to pound mercilessly on him, undeterred as he pulled a blanket over his head. He was forcibly dragged into consciousness. With a sigh of defeat he threw his blankets to the floor and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He shuddered as his bare feet kissed the cool floor. Wiping the last dregs of sleep from his eyes he shuffled to the bathroom. When he had finished his business he threw on some clothes that looked relatively clean and made his way to Sammy's room.

He didn't bother knocking as he let himself in. Sammy was out like a light, snores issuing from his open mouth. Dean chuckled lightly at the sight of his younger brother sprawled across the bed like a rag doll, thankful they didn't have to share a bed anymore. He made his way to Sammy's beside, where a radio resided, one of the few possessions they had. Without a thought for consequences he flipped the switch.

Sammy came to life with a shriek as 'The Devil Went Down to Georgia' blared through the speakers. Dean doubled over in laughter as his brother went sailing over the side of his bed in panic. An unruly mop of brown hair popped up, eyes scowling.

"What the hell Dean?!" Sammy yelled. Gingerly he stood, glaring all the while at his near hysterical brother. His rubbed his shoulder, grimacing slightly at the pain.

Dean straightened up, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "Oh Sammy, that was priceless," he chuckled a few more as he grabbed his brother in a headlock. Sammy yelped and struggled, failing his limbs in the hopes something would hit his brother. With a finishing noogie Dean released his brother and strode towards the door.

"Hurry and get ready for school princess," Dean called behind him. "We don't wanna be late for you first day of high school,"

Sammy began to yell something, but was cut off by the slamming door. With a huff he went in search of books and clothes. As annoying as his brother was, he didn't want to be late on his first day of school, especially high school. He really hoped it wasn't as bad as his brother said…

Dean made his way to the kitchen, grabbing stuff for pancakes. He usually didn't cook breakfast, or food in general, but he wanted Sammy's first day at highschool to be special. His first day had been horrible, he didn't want that for his little bro. So he pulled together what few culinary skills he had and made some kickass pancakes. He even bought some whipped cream for the occasion.

Sammy came downstairs just as he finished. He shoved a plate piled high with pancakes in Sammy's direction with a wide grin.

"Here you go, one home cooked meal!"

Sammy looked at it questioningly. "What did you do to it?"

Dean mocked hurt, clutching at his heart, eyes wide and dewy. "Oh Sammy, how you would me! To insinuate that I would do something kind to only to reveal a hidden trap that would embarrass you. How could you think so low of me?"

Sammy snorted, taking his plate with him to the table. "Stop with the theatrics Dean." He took a mouthful of fluffiness before adding. "Insinuate, that's a rather big word, I'm surprised you know you. I'm proud."

"Hey, I know big words." Dean shot back, digging into his plate as well.

"Okay, what does 'akimbo' mean?"

"... It's a type of Japanese dress."

Sammy scoffed, nearly inhaling his pancakes down the wrong pipe. Dean was forced to beat on his back before he could breathe properly again.

"Wow there cowboy, no dying yet. You have yet to even get to school," Dean said. "You alright?"

Sammy nodded, eyes still watering. "Please, try not to be too much of an idiot when I'm eating. It's a health hazard."

Dean just rolled his eyes and polished off his pancakes. "You nearly done there princess? We got places to go, people to see!"

"Yeah, yeah, give me a couple more minutes." Sammy waved him off.

Dean stroll back to his room, grabbing his knapsack and his keys. He stared at his phone a moment before grabbing it as well, just in case dad called, not that he ever did. With a sigh he glanced around his room, making sure he didn't forget anything. Deciding he was set he bounded back into the kitchen.

"Ready yet?"

Sammy gave him a bitch face before rolling his eyes. "I guess," He stood, dumping his dishes into the sink, and grabbed his book bag, which was stuffed.

Dean grimaced as he watched his brother struggle with the world heaviest bag. "What did do you have in there? Half of Russia?"

Sammy just glared at him before heading out the door. Dean followed, making sure to lock the door on his way out, chuckling under his breath. It was just so easy to rile little Sammy up.

He slid behind the wheel of his baby, a 1967 Impala, as Sammy got in besides him. Metallica rejoiced as the car roared to life, blasting through the speakers. Dean smirked as he turned the music up, singing along as he pulled onto the road. Sammy stared at him incredulously before looking out the window, unable to comprehend just how much of a weirdo his brother was. They drove to school without a word between them, though Dean made enough noise for the both of them. As their high school came into view Dean piped down, much to Sammy's relief.

Their new high school was a small building, barely over a thousand kids, and old as dirt. It was called 'Saint Peter's High' and was "Home of the Falcons". The whole place was falling apart, the grass was dying, and the lack of people just made it seem oh so fabulous. Dean scowled at the place, wishing he wasn't here. Sammy looked at it with awe and fear.

Dean parked and began to haul himself out of the car but was stopped by Sammy.

"Is highschool really as bad as you say? Are people really going to beat me up for no reason and give me swirlys?"

Dean laughed slightly. "Nah, I was just messin' with you. It's not that bad, just boring as hell." Dean gave an exasperated eye roll, putting his whole head into it before turning back to Sammy. Sammy had a small smile on his face at his brothers antics.

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise." Dean held out his pinky finger, only to get his hand shoved away.

"Come on dude, I'm not five anymore. You're such a freak!" Sammy threw himself out of the car with a laugh. Dean followed, hiding the slight sting Sammy's words had with a smile. He could still remember when a pinky promise would make everything better and Sammy would look up at him with the big brown eyes filled with adoration. He shook his head, ridding himself of nostalgia as he caught up with his brother.

"Come on," he proclaimed as he swung an arm around Sammy's shoulders, "Let's go wrangle up some schedules and get you to class."

Sammy pushed his arm away but followed him nonetheless to the front desk, staggerign slightly under the weight of his bag.

"Hey there sugar," Dean said as he slid up to the secretary. She was an older woman with graying hair and horn rimmed glasses. The glare she gave Dean made Sammy flinch.

"What do you want?" her voice was monotone, as though she had to deal with this kind of shit constantly. Seeing how she worked in a high school she probably did.

"Well, I was just wondering if I could get some schedules for me and my brother over there," Dean said, jerking a thumb towards Sammy as though it wasn't evident.

"Last names?" it was more of a demand than a question.

"Winchester," Dean purred, flashing a stunning smile. Sammy dropped his head as embarrassment for his brother filled him.

The secretary pulled open and draw and handed Dean a few sheets of paper. "There is your schedules, your lockers, and a map of the school. The bell rings in nine minutes. Make sure you are at class on time."

"No problem darling," Dean said as he took the papers. "Thank you very much. I hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again."

The secretary just sighed and went back to her business, dismissing Dean without a word. Dean sauntered back to Sammy, holding up the papers in glee.

"Here you go little bro. One schedule and a map of the school." Sammy accepted them with a nod, checking his first period; World Geography with a Ms. Smith.

"Whatcha got first?" Dean asked, leaning over his shoulder. Sammy showed him his schedule. Dean nodded. "Well then, let's go."

"I can find the way on my own," Sammy hinted.

"Aw, come on, let me help out my little brother on his first day of school." Dean tilted his head, eyes wide, trying to look adorable. Sammy sighed but nodded.

"Alright, but only for first period. I don't want you chaperoning me to all my classes." Sammy warned.

Dean lit up. "Got it," he said with a wink. He checked the map. "Room 132, that's on the other side of the school."

The two of them set off, Dean making sure his brother got to class on time. At the door Dean stopped his little brother, looking into his eyes. "Remember, if anyone tries to pull any funny business, come tell me. No one messes with the brother of Dean Winchester."

Sammy nodded obediently, barely paying attention. He had gotten this speech at every school they had gone too. It was getting pretty tiresome by this point.

Dean smiled and ruffled Sammy's hair. "Alright kiddo, have a good day at school. Make sure to raise Hell for me."

Sammy grumbled as he was forced to fix his hair. He gave his brother a small smile before disappearing into his classroom. Dean stood awkwardly outside the door before continuing down the hallway. He really didn't want to go to class. It would just be more of the same bullshit he had had to deal with for the past three years. Thank god he was a senior. Only one more year and he'd be out of school forever. He would start full time at a garage somewhere, put a mortgage down on a real house for Sammy and him so they wouldn't have to move around so much. Maybe he would even find a partner, settle down with someone. Have a couple of kids, get a dog. It sounded wonderful. A small smile spilled onto his lips at the thought. He knew that it wasn't going to be a fancy house or the best of life. There would be no picket fence and new car every five years. But there would always be enough food and a place to actually call home instead of jumping from motel room to motel room.

Checking his schedule he saw that his first class was on the second floor; checking the clock he only had two minutes to get there. He really had to get out of the habit of being tardy on the first day.

As he bounded up the stairs he halted as something, or rather someone, flew into him. His arm wrapped around the other reflexively as he steadied himself on the rail.

"Hey, watch where you're going," he scolded lightly, a touch of concern in his voice. "You alright?"

The person who had landed on his chest slowly looked up and Dean was captured in an ocean of blue. His breath stopped as he drowned. It took several moments and a burning in his lungs to bring him back to reality. He shook his head and took a deep breath before looking back down. The owner of the eyes was a boy around his age with unruly black hair that looked like silk and a splattering of stubble on his cheeks. He was dressed in a three piece suit, a tie that was put to shame by his eyes, and a large trenchcoat that swamped him. Dean swallowed hard as his mouth ran dry and his breath hitched.

"Hi," he breathed, the word barely audible as it hung in the air between them.

The stranger's pale pink lips parted, the formings of a word visible as a leer from ahead drew both of their attention.

"Already groping the new guy? That's low, even for you!"

The statement was accompanied by several laughs and taunts along the same lines, all being thrown by a group of boys that appeared to be football players. They gave one last laugh, one last taunt, before exiting the scene, leaving the two of them alone.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, concern overriding his fascination for a moment.

"I apologize for the inconvenience you have experienced for my sake. I believe that Alastair and his friends thought it would be enjoyable to see me topple down the stairs, again. I thank you for catching me. It was very considerate and saved me from having to elaborate excuses for the bruises that would surely form if I had fallen." The stranger said with a deep, gravelly voice that sent shudders down Dean's spine.

Dean nodded slowly, needing a moment to process what the stranger had said while trying to ignore how close he was. "Yeah, no problem."

"If that is all I now bid you farewell. Seeing the size of this school I am sure we'll meet again, hopefully under better circumstances." the stranger made to leave, already halfway down the stairs before Dean finished collecting his thoughts.

"Hey," he called out to the stranger, whirling around. "I never got your name."

The stranger threw a glance at him, his blue eyes striking Dean once again. "Castiel,"

Dean nodded. "It was nice meeting you Castiel. I'm Dean, by the way."

"It was a pleasure meeting you as well," Castiel replied.

Dean watched as he walked away, disappearing down the hallway. After a couple more minutes his breathing had returned to normal and he began climbing up the stairs again, this time with no accidents. His mind mulled over Castiel, continuously stuttering over those wonderful eyes. He had never seen eyes like them before, though he wished to see more of them.

He was scolded as he arrived late for his first class, then again for his lack of attention to the subject. He simply nodded and gave an apologetic smile that dripped of sarcasm. All throughout the day he seemed to be lost in a daze of blue eyes. He didn't come back to reality till his cell phone went off at lunch.

"Hello?" he asked, making his voice lower than it was to mask it. He didn't give his first name, that was a rookie mistake.

"Dean, it's your father," came the muffled reply. "We have a job tonight. Drop Sammy off at the house and meet me at 3285 Winslow lane as soon as school is out. Come around the back. I'll be waiting."

"Yes sir," Dean nodded, though it could not be seen. They disconnected with no further words. Dean glared off into the distance, wondering what job his father had lined up this time. He hoped it wasn't like last time, he had ached for weeks after that. Maybe… if Dean dared to hope, his father was closing in on the thing that killed their mom. Then they wouldn't have to move around so much and they could live together, like a family.

_Don't be an idiot_, he scoffed lightly. That would never happen. He didn't think his family even knew how a family was supposed to act. Sam and his dad would start fighting and he would be forced to play peacemaker until his father had found the bottle. Then the rest of the world would be ignored until his father was sufficiently intoxicated. With all the liquid courage he could ever need, his father would go beg Sammy's forgiveness and Sammy, after some pouting would give it. His father would watch sports until he fell into a drunken slumber and Dean was forced to drag his ass into bed and find some Aspirin for when he woke up with a raging hangover. On the good days, his father would drag himself back to bed before passing out. It was like they weren't even a family, just a group of strangers that had been thrown together.

"What are you pondering that has gotten you so troubled?" a voice above asked.

Dean jumped, eyes racing towards the voice only to clash with azure orbs. Castiel stood above him, head tilted slightly, eyebrows drawn together.

"Hey," Dean said with an easy smile, dark thoughts forgotten. "Didn't think I would see you again so soon."

"You looked trouble and lonely so I decided to see if I could help. It is customary to help those who have helped you, correct?" Castiel's voice rose slightly in question.

"Are you talking about this morning?" Dean asked. "It was nothing, don't worry about it. Want to take a seat?" he gestured next to him.

"Thank you," Castiel returned as he sat down.

"No problem," Dean replied.

They fell into silence. Castiel seemed dissuaded to say anything to further the conversation, leaving Dean to suffer the silence. Unable to take it he threw a question to Castiel.

"What grade are you in?"

"Twelfth grade," came the quick reply.

"Hey, me too," Dean smiled. Castiel nodded at him but did not return it. Dean shrugged, biting his lip as he tried to further the conversation. "Any plans for college?"

"None that I am aware of." Dean waited for an elaboration but there was none.

"Okay," he said slowly, looking back at the table. The two sat in silence for several more minutes. Castiel, sensing that Dean was no longer asking questions, began to look around the lunchroom. Dean followed in suit, turning his eyes several times to the guy besides him, only to look away quickly. He saw his brother eating lunch at the other side of the lunchroom, already surrounded by a little possy. Sammy had brushed him off early, saying he was too old to be caught with his older brother. It had hurt a bit but Dean just laughed it off. He smiled, glad that his brother was making friends. It looked he was having a hell of a better day than he was.

"Who are you smiling at?" Castiel asked. Dean looked at him sharply only to find Castiel's eyes still roaming the room. Dean shook his head slightly before answering.

"Sammy, my little brother." Castiel nodded, eyes flickering over to Sammy.

They lapsed into silence once more. This one, thankfully, was broken far quicker than the other.

"You don't have a lunch," it wasn't a question, it was a statement, and one that made Dean examine Castiel, who still wasn't looking at him.

"You don't either," he replied. Castiel glanced at him with a nod.

"No, I don't."

The silence was back. Dean shook his head, trying to make heads or tails of this odd conversation. Never before had he been meet with someone so confusing, and he wasn't confusing because he was complicated, but because he wasn't. Castiel was the most straightforward being he had ever encountered. He didn't know how he felt about it. Should he have any feelings about it? Also, Castiel's sophisticated diction also added to the puzzle. It took Dean until the end of lunch to decide that he liked Castiel and his odd ways. It was a refreshing change.

The bell rang and they bid their farewells with a promise to see each other once more before parting ways.

The rest of Dean's day was pretty uneventful. It was a relief when the bell rang and released them from Hell. Dean speed his way through the building and to his beloved Impala.

"I'm back baby," he cooed as he rubbed a hand lovingly acrossed her hood. If Sammy was here he would be sure to tease him but for the moment it was only him and his car and nothing else matter.

Dean slid behind the wheel and played some Metallica as he waited for his brother, playing a drum solo on the wheel while singing along. Sammy grimaced as he walked up to the car to find his brother head banging along to some song belonging to decades long past. Dean just turned and gave his brother a goofy grin before belting out the chorus. Face red Sammy slide into the car with instructions to go. Dean tossed him another grin before hitting the road, still singing along. As they neared the motel they were currently residing in Dean turned down the radio.

"Sorry kiddo, but I have some stuff to do. I'll be back later on tonight," he said with an apologetic smile.

"Did you already find another girl to play with?" Sammy asked, rolling his eyes.

"Stuff happens," Dean gave Sammy a wink, pulling to a stop in front of the motel. "Remember, lock the door, don't let anyone in, don't answer the phone unless it's me or dad. I have my phone on me, okay?"  
>"Dean, I'm not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself." Sammy threw the door open, sliding out.<p>

"I know," Dean said. "I just want to make sure my favorite brother is safe. Oh, and there's some food in the cupboards for dinner."

Sammy gave a melodramatic sigh as he swung his backpack onto his shoulder. "I'll be fine Dean. Try not to stay out too late."

"I'll try not to," Dean promised. "See you later,"

Sammy nodded and began walking towards their motel room. Dean waiting, making sure that Sammy got into the motel room first before driving off. With a sigh his shoulders dropped and the grin faded from his face as he drove to meet his father.

Hey everyone, this is the author. Just wanted to warn you all that this is not a happy fanfic, so if you're looking for rainbows and puppies go elsewhere. This is my first time writing a SPN fanfic, but not my first time writing. I have big plans for this and can't wait to implement them. For the couple of followers I have amassed I thank thee for thy consideration and adoration of my work. I shall work hard to keep you satisfied. Please, comment with any suggestions or observations that you wish to make. Reviews are appreciated. Thank you for reading and I hope to see more of you reading soon.


	3. Chapter 3

"Dean, behind you," came a yell. Dean twisted out of the way just in time to dodge a knife racing towards his back. He threw himself behind some crates, waiting for the moment to pounce. His father was on the other side of the warehouse, hidden behind some more crates.

Dean had meet his father at the address he had been given. They had stashed Dean's Impala and taken John's truck to a seedier part of town, where houses had dwindled into warehouses and civilians had morphed into druggies and their dealers. On the way his dad had informed him of what they were hunting, which led to their current situation.

With a leap of faith Dean burst from behind a stack of crate and crashed into the dark mass following him. A knife flashed out, nicking him in the side. He threw a punch as the knife came back around to slash his arm. The punch landed, knocking the victim out cold.

"Got him?" his dad yelled out.

"Yeah," Dean yelled back, standing up. He lifted his shirt to access the wound. It was long, spanning across his entire side, but shallow. Only a small amount of blood seeped from the torn flesh. The wound on his forearm was a bit worse, having already soaked his jacket in blood. He sighed and shirked off his jacket, pulling his shirt over his head to use as a bandage until he got home. His father came into view just as he had finished tying his makeshift bandage.

"Where is he?" his dad asked. Dean nodded to the ground to the man who lay on the floor.

John ignored his son in favor of forcing unconscious fellow into a sitting position and strapping him into some handcuffs. Dean tended to his wounds, throwing his jacket back on, hoping the blood would come out. He really liked this jacket.

"Is this the guy?" Dean asked, jerking his head in the direction of the cuffed man.

"Yup," John affirmed. "This is the guy,"

"What's he wanted for?"

"Two official cases of murder and five suspicions."

Dean nodded, surveying the guy. He was balding, around mid forties, but still handsome, with a strong jawbone and deep set eyes. It was obvious from his build that he watched what he ate and hit up the gym at least two times a week. He didn't look like a murderer, but then again, most of them didn't.

Ever since Dean's mother had been murdered his father had become obsessed with finding the killer. With no prior experience John became a private detective and a specialist on serial killers. He dragged his kids all over the country trying to find the monster who had taken his wife. Every so often a city in need would hire him for help, but he tended to be a lone wolf, preferring to work alone. This was one of the times he had been hired for a job. It was also where he suspected Mary's killer of being.

Since the age of nine Dean had been dragged along on these cases, helping his father out. He knew how to work and make just about any weapon he would need and was versed in the way of hand-to-hand combat, including several types of martial arts. His father had tried to requite Sammy for this life but Dean had begged him not to, promising that he would be at his beck and call at all times no matter what. Since then his father had taken him on a lot of cases, disregarding the danger. If the police knew that Dean went on half of the cases his father did they would flip, but since one of his father's conditions was that he worked alone, they're not finding out anytime soon.

"Dean," his father called. He looked over, waiting for further orders. "I'm going to call someone to pick this guy up. Meet me out by the truck. Remember, let no one see you."

Dean nodded and made his way to the truck as his father pulled out his cell. He hung out by the truck, staying out of sight, for the next two and a half hours. To amuse himself he watched police cars come and go as they took every precaution to apprehend a still out cold man. He chuckled at their antics. He checked his phone several times, making sure Sammy didn't call. Even though he had left Sammy alone like this a lot he didn't like to. It made him anxious and worried. By the time all the police had left and his father headed towards him he was biting his lip as he fretted over Sammy, resisting the urge to call and demand to know he was okay. Sammy was a big boy now, he could take care of himself, right…?

"Come on Dean," his father's gruff voice broke him from his thoughts. "Get in,"

Dean hopped into the truck without further prompting. It was silent as they started on their way to their meeting point to grab Dean's baby. After several long minutes John broke the silence.

"We're buying a house,"

Dean froze, forgetting how to breathe. "What?" he finally strangled out.

"Yeah," John gave a nervous chuckle. "I've already contacted the bank about it. I'm just waiting to see if the loan will be approved."

"But dad, what about mom's killer?" Dean burst out.

John threw a glance at him. "Well, I found out he was in this town. I've nearly caught him. Just a couple more weeks, a month at most, and he's mine. But, in the meantime, I decided that Sammy needs more stability in his life and seeing how we're only a twenty minute drive from Bobby and an hour away from Ellen this would be the best place to settle down."

Bobby was an old friend of dad's that had retired from the police force a few years back. He had been the one to start John's detective work. Ellen was a close family friend, though she refused to see John. Seven years ago John had broken his lone wolf status and went hunting with Ellen's husband. He died and John could give no good excuse why. From then on out Ellen welcomed the boys into her home, but never their father.

"So, we're staying here?" Dean aksed.

John shrugged. "As good as a place as any."

"And we're getting a home? A real home?"

"Uh huh,"

Dean drew in a deep breath, looking towards the road. A grin erupted across his face as he exhaled. "That's great dad, that's really great."

John nodded, a small smile on his lips as well. "Don't tell your brother though, I want it to be a surprise."

"I won't dad, I promise. A home of our own though, wow."

Dean walked into the motel room feeling like King of the World. He laughed as he shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it. Sammy was sprawled across the couch, reading a novel. He looked at Dean from over the top of his book, eyebrows raised.

"That good, huh?" Sammy asked.

Dean laughed again, unable to stay silent. "What are you talking about?"

"You just got laid, didn't you? I've never seen you this happy before so it must have been a pretty good time." Sammy pulled a face as he was forced to explain. He hated talked about his brothers sex life. His brother really didn't have a sex life, he just whored himself out to any girl with a pretty face. It was embarrassing to watch.

Dean's smiled dimmed slightly at Sammy's words. "Oh, yeah…"

Sammy shook his head at his brothers odd moods before returning to his novel. His english teacher had suggested it, even though it wasn't required reading material, she had even given him her personal copy too. It was called 'Fountainhead' by Ayn Rand and so far he loved it.

Dean made his way to the tiny spaced that was supposed to be a kitchen. "You already eat?" he called out to Sammy, getting a vague call of affirmation back. He looked around the cupboards, checking to see if they had any food. There was only a small box of cereal left with food enough for one. With a sigh of regret he placed it back, knowing that Sammy would need something to eat in the morning.

He made his way to his room, his spirits mellowed at the lost of food. Hopefully their father would come home tomorrow with some money so he could buy more food. Clutching his protesting stomach he collapsed onto his bed and resolved not to think of food. Of course, he couldn't control his dreams and they just loved to torture him.

The next morning he was greeted with a knotted stomach and a wounded arm and torso that he had forgotten about. Checking the time to make sure Sammy was still asleep he went to work bandaging his arm, with real bandages this time, and his torso. He silently thanked whatever was out there, if anything at all, that Sammy was too much of a nerd and was too engrossed in his novel to realize that the dark stain on Dean's dark jacket was blood.

Once his wounds were secure he pulled on a long sleeve shirt and another jacket, one not covered in blood, while stashing the other one in a corner of the room until he had the chance to wash it. Checking the time again he decided it would be a good time to wake Sammy. He awoke him as he had the day before and even managed a chuckle at Sammy's flailing limbs. Leaving Sammy to get ready and eat Dean retreated back to his room, grabbing what little stuff he had, and flopping down on the bed.

He yawned loudly, wishing he could go back to sleep. He groaned loudly as he realized that his body was trying to shut down from lack of food. Unwilling to fall asleep and risk his little brother being late he forced himself to stand.

"Come on now, you've gone longer without food than just a couple meals." he told his stomach. In reply he got an angry growl and a sharp twist of pain. "Point taken," he said, grabbing briefly at his stomach.

When he deemed enough time had passed he headed to the kitchen to collect Sammy. They travelled to school in silence this time, the radio being the sole source of entertainment. Sammy was surprised that his brother didn't sing along, especially when 'Ramble On' came on, Dean's favorite song, but didn't think much of it.

They parted ways at the school, Sammy refusing Dean's offer to walk him to class, meaning Dean made it to his first period in plenty of time. Being the first one there, save the teacher who sat typing away at her computer, he chose a seat in back and laid his head down on the desk, hoping to catch a few zzz's before class. Just as he was beginning to drift he was interrupted.

"Are you alright?" A mildly concerned voice asked. Dean raised his head high enough to see the speaker before dropping his head back down with a slight bang.

"Just peachy Cas,"

"Cas?" Castiel asked. "Are you referring to me?"

Dean lifted his head once more to see if Castiel was being serious. Upon seeing he was he sighed and explained. "Well, Castiel is kind of a mouthful and Cas is just easier to say. Haven't you had a nickname before?"

Cas shook his head. "No, I was not aware that it was socially acceptable to change a persons name without their permission to suit the other person."

Dean searched for some form of sarcasm in the others voice but found none. Instead, he sat up, resigning himself to a lack of sleep. "When said like that I feel guilty. Is it okay if I call you Cas?"  
>"That's acceptable," Cas nodded. "Thank you for asking. It is appreciated."<p>

Dean laughed. "Are you even from this century?"

"Since I was born in the year 1992 I am technically not from this century."

"You know, you could be quite the smart ass." Dean remarked.

"How can an ass be smart?" came the immediate reply. Dean doubled over in laughter, clutching at his stomach.

"Have you never heard that phrase? That is unbelievable."

Cas continued to stare at him, eyes asking for an explanation. As soon as Dean managed to get his laughter under control he began to explain.

"A 'smartass' is a name people call each other to describe someone that makes sarcastic remarks." Dean stopped to think, wondering if he should add more, but then shrugged and decided to let it be.

Cas nodded, pondering the words. "Thank you,"

"No problem,"

They lapsed into silence again. It wasn't the awkward silence that had filled the majority of yesterday's lunch, but rather a comfortable silence. Dean felt his eyelids drooping before remembering something.

"Cas, why are you in here?" he asked. Cas wasn't in this class yesterday, was he? Dean was sure he could have noticed if he was.

"This is my first class," Cas said simply.

"Where were you yesterday?" Dean really hoped he wasn't thick enough to not notice Cas had been in that class the previous day.

"I didn't come. I was in the library, reading." Cas replied, putting an end to Dean's silly fears.

"Oh," Dean managed, unsure of what else to say. "What were you reading?"

"A book on mythologies. Egyptian to be specific."

Dean nodded. The silence fell over them once more, going unbroken until the ringing of the bell and the stampede of students trying to file into the classroom at the same time. As soon as the class settled down the teacher rose and began her lesson. Castiel turned to face the front and Dean sat back in his seat, spending the rest of class fighting off sleep.

Dean's next few classes came and went in a blur. By the time lunch had rolled around the cramping in his stomach had subsided, replaced by a hard knot that refused to leave. Sammy chose to sit with his friends again, leaving Dean alone. Dean was glad he had the foresight to actually put money into Sammy's lunch account. It meant he didn't have to worry about scrounging something up for Sammy to eat at lunch. Not he just had to worry about dinner. His father better be home tonight.

"May I sit here?" a voice asked. Dean glanced up once to confirm it was Castiel before nodding.

"So," Dean started when he decided he had enough of the silence. "No lunch again?"

Castiel shrugged. "No,"

Dean nodded, fishing for something else to say. "Why are you sitting with me?"

"I like you,"

Dean glanced over at Cas, checking for any signs of lying or sarcasm. There were none. He sat, puzzled, trying to figure out if there was a hidden message in those words.

"What?" he finally asked, eyebrows drawn as he stared at Cas. Cas looked over at him, holding his gaze as he explained.

"Most of the population in this school are shallow and crass, the few that are exempt are trying too hard to be something they are not. Everyone hides behind a mask, a fake persona. I refuse to hide behind something I am not. They are ashamed of themselves when they compare themselves to me. Unable to feel real hatred towards themselves they transfer onto me. It does not help that I am...foreign to the customs and culture that has been established in this time era, making me an easy target to relieve themselves of negative feelings. You don't hate me, which is one of the reasons why I like you. You don't hide either. You hide stuff, but you don't hide who you are. You don't try to be something you're not. You're too open. So instead you cram everything inside and close yourself off, but you're still you." Castiel paused. "Does that make sense?"

Dean nodded slowly, biting his tongue. "Yeah, as lengthy as that was, I think I got what you were saying."

"Good," Castiel said. Turning his gaze back to the lunchroom. "By the way, what happened to your arm?"

Dean jumped, eyes flitting to his arm. His long sleeve was still in place, the bandage wasn't visible at all, so how did Castiel know….

Cas looked over and sighed, "You've been favoring your arm all day. Plus, when you were trying to sleep your sleeve hitched up enough to reveal the bandages on your arm."

Dean bite his lip, giving a little head jiggle as he assessed Castiel's logic. Damn, the little bastard had caught him. "It's nothing," he lied. Dean looked over just in time to see Cas give him the bitchiest face he'd ever seen. Seeing how he lived with Sammy that was quite the accomplishment.

"Dean, if it were nothing there wouldn't be bandages around your arm. Besides, the bruising on your wrist indicates that it's a cut, and a rather nasty one to leave bruises that dark, though it's not bad enough to get stitches. So Dean, don't lie to me. If you don't want to tell me how you got it then say so, I won't be offended, just don't lie."

"Alright, sorry Cas," Dean apologized. "I'd just rather not talk about it."

"That's acceptable," Cas replied. "If you ever do wish to talk I will listen."

"Thank you," Dean gave a small smile.

"Also," Cas said. "Make sure you keep it clean, if it's serious enough to gain bruises it will gain infections easier than most. Keep the wound on your torso clean as well."

Dean looked down in shock at his torso before examining Cas. "Do I want to know how you know that?"

Cas merely shrugged. "It was pretty obvious."

"Thank you for noticing. I guess…"

They fell back into silence, sitting out the rest of lunch in this fashion. Upon the bells call they rose. Before parting Cas grabbed Dean's arm, the unwounded one.

"One more thing Dean," he said. "Try to eat sometime soon. It's not healthy to go so long without food."

Dean cast Cas a bewildered look as the blue eyed boy disappeared into the throng of people. With a head shake and a noise of disbelief he made his way to his next class.

A familiar truck was parked outside the motel as Dean and Sammy made their way to their room.

"Dad's back," Dean said, a smile tugging on his lips.

"Finally," Sammy sulked.

John Winchester was on the couch, watching a sports program, when they came through the door. He jumped up, a smile on his face upon seeing his boys.

"How've you been Sammy?" he exclaimed.

Sammy made a noncommittal noise and trudged to his room, coming back seconds later relieved of his backpack. John just smiled some more and wrapped Sammy up in a hug, which was returned half heartedly.

"It's good to see you again," John remarked before turning to Dean. "You doing alright?"

"Just fine dad," Dean said. John smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"So, Sammy, I wanted to talk to you about something." John turned back to his youngest.

"Hmm?" Sammy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on, I'll tell you over dinner," John made his way to the table.

Dean nearly moaned at the mention of food. His stomach released the knots it had been settled it and roared to life, withering in its demand for food. He quickly followed his dad to the table. stomach growling loudly as he beheld the feast in front of them. It seemed as though his dad had gone to a fast food place and bought one of everything. He immediately grabbed a double bacon cheeseburger and dug in, muffling his moan with another bite.

"This is delicious," Dean said, mouth full of food.

"Dean, manners," his dad snapped. Dean just shrugged off the hurt and dug into his cheeseburger again. He hadn't eaten since yesterday's breakfast, damn anyone who tried to take this pleasure away from him.

Sammy sat down, staring moodily at the food before looking up at his dad. John sat down as well, across from Sammy, and smiled.

"Well, there's no easy way to say this so I'm just gonna come out and say it," John started. "I bought a house."

"What?" Sammy asked, eyes wide.

John nodded, smiling smugly. "Yup, just picked up the keys before I came over." he held up a pair of keys. Sammy stared for a hard moment.

"We're living here?" he asked slowly. "Like, actually living here? Not just staying for a month and leaving?"

"We're going to live here," John said proudly. "Come on, after you're done eating we can check out of this dump and go check out the place."

"Wow, that's great," Sammy laughed, grabbing a burger. "That's wonderful. I mean… wow."

Dean smiled widely as he took another bite of his cheeseburger. Things were starting to look up.

The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable silence with a few comments made every now and again. There was no fighting, or no drinking either. Dean ate until he was bursting. He was surprised his pants still fit by the time he was finished. The three of them made quick work to pack up their stuff and checked out the dingy place. Sammy rode with John while Dean took his baby. They pulled up at the house at roughly the same time. Dean saw with glee that John and Sammy weren't fighting as they climbed out of the cab of the truck.

"So, this is it guys," John said, sweeping a hand towards the house. "What do you think?"

It was a small two story house. The windows were dark and looked like empty eyes. The paint was peeling from the wood work. It seemed to rest at a slant and the yard was littered in weeds and garbage. Dean didn't see any of it. He saw a place where they could stay, where they could live, without always being ready to hit the road. A place where Sammy could bring his friends over and hand out. Maybe Cas would come over some time. Dean didn't know what they could do, but he wouldn't mind hanging out with his only friend in this town. It was a secret little haven where there would be homemade meals and laughter. To Dean it was…

"Perfect…" he breathed, still caught in his fantasy. He cleared his throat, realizing how dreamy he had sounded. "I mean, it's great dad, it's really just wonderful."

Sammy looked at the house with distrust. "Are you sure it's uninhabitable?"

"Oh, come on Sammy," Dean threw an arm over his brothers shoulders. "A little TLC and a fresh pain of coat and this place will be looking as good as new."

Sammy nodded slowly. "If you say so,"

"I know so," Dean assured him. He cast his eyes back towards the house. Everything was going to be okay. His dysfunctional family was finally going to be a family again.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean laid awake that night, listening to the yelling below. Sam and his father couldn't even last a night before a fight broke out. Dean didn't even know what they were fighting about any more, they were just throwing any barbed insult they could at each other. It was always like this. Always. Why couldn't they just get along? Or at least talk like normal humans. Hell, most of their fights would be avoided if they didn't start screaming. As soon as the screaming began, the rest was just repeated history. After the fighting match his dad would drink even more and probably pass out on the couch. His brother would be in a surly mood for the next couple of days, snapping at him constantly. All the while everyone would walk around on eggshells hoping to avoid another argument, but, of course, another egg would always break and the yelling would begin and Dean would still be listening to them scream each other hoarse for no reason.

He was an idiot, for thinking that getting a house would do anything to draw their family together. He had hoped that maybe, just maybe, things would be a bit better than life on the road. Maybe he should stop hoping for the impossible, it would cause him a whole lot less heartache.

Footsteps in the stairs and a slamming door indicated that the fight was over, for the time being. Dean heaved a sigh of relief and rolled over on his side. His eyes fluttered shut just in time for his door to open. With a growl he heaved himself into a sitting position and turned to face the intruder.

His father stood in the doorway, a bottle in hand. He stood meekly for a moment before taking a swig and sitting besides Dean.

"What do you want dad?" Dean asked. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake up some.

"I wanted to talk to you," his dad replied. Dean stared until he continued. "It's about you."

"What about me?" Dean asked. He really wanted this conversation over so he could sleep.

"You need to get a job," his dad said, point blank. Dean stared for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

"What?" he finally articulated.

"You need to get a job." John reiterated. "I spent most of our money on the house and loan. I'm going to get a job but I need to finish this case first. In the meantime you and Sammy need to eat somehow. The house also needs some fixing up."

"Isn't that your job?" Dean spat out. All he wanted to do was sleep, not be troubled by more crap. Couldn't this had waited until morning?

John smacked him in the back of the head. "Don't get sharp with me boy. I'm doing the best I can. It's time for you to pitch in a little."

Dean rubbed the back of his head. "What about my college fund? I'm not planning on going anyways."

"I already used that for the down payment." John confessed.

"That wouldn't be enough for the down payment. Where'd you get the rest?"

"Sammy's,"

Dean froze. "You did what?"

"I had to. We had no other money. As soon as I get a job I'll put all the money back, but we need it right now."

Dean turned on his father, furious. "No, we didn't need we, we would have been just fine in a motel. We've been fine for the past how many years in a fucking motel room. That money was Sammy's way out. Do you really want him living like this for the rest of his life? I already know I'm damned to this life. Why did you have to damn him? Why?"  
>John turned to his son, face red. "Do you think I want to do this? Of course not. I want the best for Sammy but we need the money! Sammy has another four years of schooling before college, I can get up more money before then."<p>

"How the hell are you supposed to make up fourteen years of savings?" Dean snipped, rolling his eyes.

"I'll find a way okay!"

"Yes, because you always find a way."

"Don't you dare take that tone with me boy! I am your father so you better show me some goddamn respect before I whup your scrawny little ass. I might be old but I can take you on any day!"

Dean fell silent, glowering.

"That's better," John took another drink. "I've already talked to Gordon, he's the owner of a garage in town. He's expecting you tomorrow at 4 o'clock sharp. Don't be late."

With that John exited the room. Dean laid down, staring up at the ceiling. Well, just one more thing to add to the to-do list.

"So, you're Dean Winchester." A man, presumably Gordon, said as he raked his eyes up and down.

"Yes sir," Dean affirmed with a grin. "Gordon, I assume?"

"Got me there," They clasped hands before Gordon hooked an arm around Dean's shoulder, leading him out back.

"I understand you want a job," Gordon said. A nod from Dean and he continued. "I just so happen to have a spot, but I have to know, what do you know about cars and fixing them?"

"Just about everything under the sun," Dean replied with a wink.

Gordon laughed. "I like you man. I think you and I are going to get along just fine. But on a more serious note, really, what do you know? I don't have the time or money to waste in rookies, even if it is for an old friend."

Dean leaned close to Gordon, pointing at his car. "You see that '67 Impala out there. That's my baby. Did all the work on her myself."

Gordon whistled. "She's a beauty. Mind if I take a look at her?"

"I would be insulted if you didn't."

They continued with idle chat as Gordon looked over the Impala, making remarks every so often on the mechanical work or wiring. When the inspection was done Gordon turned back to Dean.

"Well, from what I've seen, I think you've got yourself a job," he said.

"What's the catch?" Dean asked.

"You work for me today. If I like you I keep you, if not you're out on the streets." Gordon said easily. "Don't want any screw ups in my business."

"Sounds like a deal to me," Dean agreed.

"I don't have any coveralls for you today." Gordon said as he lead Dean back to the garage. "I hope you aren't too attached to those clothes."

Dean didn't get home till midnight. It was ladies day, meaning that every woman in town that didn't know how to fix a car or change some oil and didn't know anyone who did flooded the place. Good news was that he got the job. Bad news was that Gordon had assigned him to deal with all the difficult customers. Apparently people were not Gordon's forte. Or at least most people. Gordon and Dean got along swimmingly. Gordon had even got Dean some dinner while he had been trapped underneath a car fixing a blown brake. Free of charge at that.

His father was already snoring on the couch, a bottle hanging from his limp hand. Dean, too tired to try to arouse the man, grabbed the bottle, set it on the floor, and threw a blanket over him. John mumbled something in his sleep as he shifted. Dean ignored him and made his way to the bathroom.

Predictably, there was no warm water. The water heater was probably broken. He could fix that tomorrow after work. Crap, more things on the to-do list. Did he have any homework? Fuck…

With a grimace Dean left the shower, pulling on his warmest sweats and a poncho, shut up they were soft and warm and he was freezing. For the next hour he forced himself to do school work. He wasn't the most studious but he wanted to pass. Just in case, someday, he changed his mind about college. Also, he wanted to finish something, at least one thing. Besides, he had already gotten this far, no reason to give up on the final lap.

When everything was done, or mostly done, Dean threw everything into his bag and collapsed onto the bed and into sleep.

Dean was the first one up, as usual. Through his groggy state he dragged his sorry ass out of bed, splashed some frigid water on his face, and went off to disturb Sammy. His father was still on the couch and Sammy made some snarky comment about it that Dean was too tired to reply to. There was a small panic at some lost school books or something like that but it got sorted out. At least they piled into the Impala and made their way to school.

Castiel was already in the classroom when Dean shuffled in. Dean yawned loudly as he took his seat.

"Hiya Cas," he managed to get out.

"Hello Dean," Cas replied, voice still monotonous. Dean laughed slightly. For the couple days he had met Cas he hadn't heard him change his tone once besides a small inflection to demonstrate a question. He hadn't seen him smile either. The thought made Dean a little sad and a lot curious. How would Cas's smile look? Would those beautiful eyes light up as well?

"Dean," Cas said, breaking Dean from his thoughts. "Why are you staring at my eyes?"

Dean flushed, floundering for an excuse, any excuse. "Because… um… w-well… I wasn't really staring… I mean… your eyes are kinda gorgeous and shit… I did not just say that outloud….fuuuuuck…." Dean fell silent. He had fucked up pretty badly before, but this was pretty high up on the list with letting Sammy catch him wearing frilly pink undies and trying a woo a girl at a roller disco with dorky moves from the '80's (never mind the fact that it was his first time roller skating).

Cas looked at Dean for a moment, his eyes trying to connect with hazel orbs that seemed determine to hide.

"Thank you Dean." Cas finally said. He was rewarded with hazel eyes jumping to his. "I find your eyes acceptable as well. I rather enjoy looking at them."

Dean turned redder than he already was, if that was possible, as he found his gaze being captured by Cas's. His mouth opened to reply but found nothing to say. Instead, the two continued to look at each other, staring unabashedly. No matter how long he looked Dean could not get over how breathtaking those eyes were. A beautiful mixture of blues that made him envious of anyone who captured a glimpse of them.

The bell rang, interrupting the silence between the two. Dean scowled instantly when Castiel's eyes left his. Stupid bell.

Classes passed as usual. By this point in time there was nothing new to remark, which was kind of sad, seeing as it was still the first week. Dean got the sinking feeling that this school year was going to drag on far longer than all the rest.

Halfway through lunch Castiel joined him. Dean nodded in greeting, mouth full at the moment.

"Hey Cas," he said as he swallowed.

"Hello Dean. Of what feeling has your day consisted of so far?" Cas replied.

Dean sat for a moment, dumbstruck. "Are you trying to ask me how's my day been…?" he asked slowly.

"Precisely," Cas looked over, cocking his head to the side. "Did I do something wrong? Was I not clear enough?"

Dean laughed. "No, no, it's nothing. I've just never heard it said that way before."

"Oh, my mistake. I shall not repeat it in the future."

"Cas, it's fine. I don't mind. You can ask how my day is however you want." Dean assured him.

"If you insist."

"I do," Dean paused before saying, "You're not used to talking to people."

Cas shook his head, eyes resting on the table. "No, I'm not. It's much more difficult than I would have imagined."

"Why aren't you used to it?" Dean asked curiously.

"I would rather not talk about that at the moment." Cas said. "It's a rather… difficult situation to explain properly."

Dean nodded, wanting to overthrow the ruling but not wanting to push away his friend. "Alright. I'm always here if you need to talk."

"Thank you Dean."

Dean suddenly pulled out his phone, struck by an idea. "Cas, give me your number."  
>"I have a number?" Cas asked, confusion colouring his tone. Dean laughed at the look Cas gave him, and even harder at the shift of tone.<p>

"Your phone number Cas," Dean reiterated.

"Oh," Cas paused. "I don't know it,"

"What? How do you not know your phone number? Wait, don't answer that question. Here, just give me your phone instead."

Cas handed Dean his phone. Dean put Cas's number into his phone and put his numbers into Cas's. When he was done he showed Cas how to find his number and gave him a crash course on how to text after finding out that the blue eyed boy had never done so before. It took the rest of lunch but by the end Dean thought that Cas finally had it down. Of course, he was proven wrong at the end of the day when Cas called him wondering why he didn't answer any of his text before finding out that Cas had forgotten to send them. Still, Dean couldn't help but smile as he typed out a text to Cas, adding a reminding at the bottom to press send.

After dropping Sammy off at the house, and hoping that it would still be in one piece when he came home, Dean headed to the bank. There he opened two accounts, a checking and savings. He placed everything he had on him at present into the savings account. That was to be Sammy's college funds. If fourteen years of lost money was going to be made up he had to start as soon as possible.

He made sure he was at least ten minutes early to work, wanting to make a good impression. Gordon gave him a quick welcome, threw some coveralls at him, and all but threw him under a car. He smiled softly as he got to work. He probably should be bitter about this job, about being forced to work, but tinkering under the hood of a car, discovering what the problem was and correcting it, fixing up rattling engines and making them run good as new again, he liked it. It made sense to him. Cars, they were so much simpler than humans. They actually made sense.

Several times throughout the evening Cas texted him. It was often random stuff, like the weather outside or comments on a book they had to read for english, making a conversation hard to hold, but Dean didn't mind. He texted back every time and always looked forward to the reply.

He didn't get home till late again, though earlier than the night before. His father seemed to have made his way to his room this time. His brother way on the couch, reading a book. Dean ran and jumped over the back of the couch, landing besides Sammy. Sammy gave a yelp and threw the book in Dean's general direction, nicking him in the head.

"What was that for man?" Dean asked, rubbing his head.

"Why were you being an idiot?" Sammy shot back. "You should have known that was going to happen."

"Yeah, yeah smart one." Dean stood, still rubbing his head. "I need to shower. Make sure you get in bed at a semi-reasonable time."

Sammy reached down to grab his book. "I know Dean, I'm not a kid anymore. There's no hot water by the way. I think the water heater is broken."

"No shit Sherlock," Dean replied. "I'll fix it tomorrow after work."

"Good," Sammy muttered as he returned to his book.

Dean yawn, suddenly very tired as he contemplated the work he had to do. Besides school and his actual job he had to start fixing the house up to make it a bit more livable. Hopefully his dad would lend a helping hand, but he wasn't counting on it.

He finished with his shower and rushed through his homework, answering Cas's odd texts whenever they came. Luckily, he was done with everything before midnight and decided to get some shut eye. With a final text to Cas he disappeared under his blankets, electing to get started on the rest of his to-do list after he had a sufficient amount of rest.

Sorry for the short chapter dearies. I didn't have much to put into this one. Hopefully, set up will be done soon and I can start writing the good stuff. Thank you to everyone who is reading and who has favorited and reviewed. See everyone tomorrow (since I have no real life and can post a chapter a day). Ciao~!


	5. Chapter 5

The next day Dean didn't get home from work till past midnight. He hurriedly fixed the water heater and took a lukewarm shower. His father was on the couch again, barely conscious. With a sigh he cajoled his father into a bed and away from the bottle. From there he did the bare minimum amount of homework, just enough to pass, and collapsed into bed with only an hour before he had to get ready.

This little trend continued for a couple of weeks. He would come home exhausted, fix something, get some homework done, and try to shove eight hours of sleep into two. He was constantly tired but he hid it well. The only person who ever noticed the bags under his eyes or the increased amounts of time he zoned off into space was Cas, but that was because Cas was, well he was Cas.

His father would often trap himself up in his room or would get drunk in the living room, leaving Dean to clean up the bottles and cans everywhere. Sammy never ventured out of his room if his father was up and about. Whenever Dean checked on him he was reading or studying. At least every other day Dean would make some food to bring to Sammy. Occasionally Sammy would thank him but more often than not he would ignore Dean in favor of his studies. It didn't bother Dean, much. He really couldn't blame Sammy, college was his ticket out and to get there he had to study hard.

When Dean got his first paycheck he put half of it towards food and household items, the other half towards Sammy's college fund He may not have a shot at escape but he was going to make sure that Sammy had that option if he wanted. He didn't know how his father managed with his neverending consumption of alcohol but he didn't look into it. He already had too much on his plate.

Everything continued in this slightly dysfunctional way as Dean forced everything to work. After hours of hard work and sweat everything seemed to be looking better. The house wasn't as bad, though a layer of paint was still needed, there was food in the pantry, and some extra money on the side for emergencies. Or at least there was, until it went missing.

"Dad," Dean thundered as he barged into his fathers room. "Where did the money go?"

Dean's father looked up blearily, eyes already glazed over with drink. Upon seeing his son a sloppy smile broke out on his face. "Dean, my boy, how are you doing? Come to see your old man?"

"Dad," Dean deadpanned. "Where did the money go?"  
>"What money?" John slurred.<p>

Dean sighed, resisting the urge to punch the man. "The money in the jar. The one for emergencies."

John laughed. "Well, an emergency happened."  
>"And what emergency was that?"<p>

"I ran out of beer," John chuckled as he took a swig from a dark bottle on the bedside.

Dean exhaled sharply, trying to control the rising fury in his gut. He whirled around and slammed his fist into the wall. The plaster cracked slightly and Dean winced at the pain and the thought of having another thing to fix up.

"Have you paid this months mortgage yet?" Dean asked through clenched teeth, refusing to look at the man he called dad.

"About that…" John said slowly. "I was hoping you could cover it for me. Just this once, I promise."

"With what money?" Dean demanded. "The money you just spent?"

"You're a smart boy, you'll think of something." John said with a smile before returning to his bottle. "I appreciate it son."

Dean stormed out of that room before he did something stupid. He yelled at Sammy to let him know he was going out and grabbed his car keys. He was on the road in under a minute flat, watching street lamps whizz by, with no idea as to where he was going. His knuckles shone white on the steering wheel.

He didn't know what to do. He was lost, confused, hurt, angry, god was he angry, and he was sick and tired of all of it. Of course he couldn't just give up. He had Sammy to worry about. But as he drove, speeding down the dark road, he wanted to keep on driving. Away from all of it. He didn't know what he would find out there but it had to be better than this.

As he passed the city limits he pulled over and grabbed his phone. He didn't know who he was going to call but he just knew he had to talk to somebody before he did something he would regret. His contacts list was short, less than ten people. He thought about calling Bobby, but what would he say to the man? He hadn't talked to Ellen in over a year. He didn't know if Jo had a cell and Ash… he was better off not talking to Ash. Sammy was out of the question. That left one person. Without pausing to think he punched in the number and pressed dial. The phone rang once before it was picked up.

"Yes," A gravelly voice answered.

Dean swallowed, wondering if this was a smart decision. "Hey Cas," his voice was thick. He cleared his throat before continuing. "Is this a bad time?"

"Besides the late hour, it's a rather pleasant time." Cas replied.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No."

Dean took a breath, unsure of what to say now. He hadn't thought this far ahead, he hadn't thought at all. Luckily, Cas saved him.

"Is there anything you wanted?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Um, what are you doing right now?"

"I'm talking to you,"

Dean chuckled slightly. "Do you mind if I come see you?"  
>"Why?"<p>

Dean swallowed. "I kinda don't want to be alone right now," He confessed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Alright, I'll meet you at the park in fifteen minutes." Cas hung up before Dean had the chance to reply.

Dean nodded to himself as he flipped his car around, heading back to town. On the way he wondered if this was a good idea before deciding fuck it. Nothing seemed liked a good idea at the time but this was one of the better ones.

Castiel was already at the park when he pulled up fourteen minutes later. He sat on the swings, staring up at the sky, dressed in the same old first trenchcoat and suit as usual. Seeing Cas, outlined against the headlights of his car, looking the same as always, calmed Dean and gave him the courage to pull himself out of the Impala.

"Hey," Dean said softly as he sat down next to Cas on the swings.

Cas looked over at him. "Hello Dean," he replied. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course it is." Dean laughed, grinning. At Castiel's unimpressed gaze the smile faded and laughter died. "No,"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cas asked. Dean looked at Castiel's concerned eyes, finding comfort in them. He heaved a sigh before turning to the sky.

"Maybe later, not right now though."

Castiel nodded. Together they gazed at the stars. It was a cloudless night and the moon shone bright. Him and Sammy used to do this, stargaze. When Sammy was small and had a nightmare or couldn't sleep they would lay out in the motel parking lot and stare up at the stars. As Sammy got older and Dean got the Impala they would drive out to abandoned fields where there was no light for miles and stars for as far as the eye could see. It was under the stars that Sammy had first told Dean of his desire to go to college and his first girlfriend, Becky Hansen. In return Dean had told Sammy about their mother, the goods things. Like, how she used to make up silly songs to sing to them, or how amazing her pie always tasted, and how she would tell them "Angels are watching over you", every night as they closed their eyes, how she used to sing "Hey Jude" instead of lullabies and the stories she used to tell them of knights and dragons. He never did tell Sammy about the fights their parents had, or how he used to hug their mother after a fight and tell her it would all be alright, or the time their father had gotten too drunk and sent their mother to the ER after giving her a concussion and five stitches on the top of her head. She had to get an area shaved off so they could stitch it up, she had been humiliated by how she looked after that. She had laughed and cried when Dean had shaved off the same area on his head so she wouldn't be so embarrassed. Sammy didn't know any of the bad stuff and he would never need to. He would be happier not knowing. Hell, Dean would be a lot happier not knowing.

After sitting a while Dean looked over at Cas and licked his lips. "You know, that star formation over there, that's Orion." He pointed it out. Cas's eyes followed his fingers and nodded, seemingly interested. "And over there, that's Scorpius,"

For the next hour Dean pointed out every star formation he knew and made up some he didn't. Cas watched him with rapt attention, listening to the tales that went along with the star and occasionally asking questions when he needed clarification. Dean was more than happy to answer any question his asked. As they talked they drew closer until Dean had an arm slung over Cas's shoulders and their cheeks brushed as their gazes landed on distant stars. When Dean had no more stories to tell or create they simply sat staring up at the sky. Finally, tired of sitting on the swings, Dean hauled himself to his feet and made his way to his car.

"You coming?" he asked when he realized Cas was not following him. Cas gave a nod and rose. Dean slid gracefully onto the hood of his baby, leaning against the windshield. Cas approached the car and stared at it, puzzled. After a few moments he tried to clamber onto the hood and Dean had to swoop in and save Cas from falling on his ass. They leaned back on the windshield, Dean chuckling at their little catastrophe.

"You alright there Cas?" He asked, throwing a look over at the slightly disheveled boy.

Cas nodded. "Yeah, thanks to you."

"No problem," Dean said, shrugging it off. "Can't have you getting hurt now, can I?"

The two lapsed into a comfortably silence. Dean yawned loudly, resting his head against his car, letting his eyes flutter shut. Without meaning to he began to speak.

"Thank you Cas, for coming out here with me. You probably had much more important stuff to do, at the very least you had sleep, but you still came out here with me. Thank you."

"It was nothing," Cas replied. "I am glad you called me. I enjoy spending time with you."

Dean rolled his head to look at Cas. "Say Cas, why did you bring me here? To the park of all places?"

"When you called you were hurt and lost. This park has always symbolized a place of peace and calm for me, something that you needed." Cas explained, looking at Dean as he did so.

"Is there anything special about this park?" Dean was curious now.

Castiel looked down as he pulled a picture from his trenchcoat. "When I first came here and everything got to be too much Claire would bring me here."

"Who's Claire?"

Castiel held the picture towards Dean. It was of a little girl and a slightly younger Cas. Cas glowered at the camera while Claire had her arms thrown around his neck, a large smile on her lips. Her cheeks were rosy and her blonde hair fell gracefully around her face. She was young, nine or ten. "This is Claire," The tenderness in his tone made Dean look up. Castiel was staring down at the photograph, a small smile playing on his pink lips, his eyes lit up with a soft light. Dean found himself breathless, eyes drinking in the sight. It was, he was, gorgeous.

After a moment Cas stowed the photograph away. Dean, in an attempt to cover his staring, decided a question was necessary.

"Is that your sister?"

"No," Castiel responded. "She is the daughter of the foster family I am currently staying with."

"Foster family?" Dean asked before he could stop himself.

Cas nodded, "Yes, foster family."

"What happened to your real family?" he asked, hoping he wasn't treading over a sensitive subject.

"I don't know if you can call but the people who are blood my 'real' family." Castiel began. "But if they are who you are referring to, my father is gone, has been for years, my mother is incarcerated, and the rest of my siblings have been adopted."

"Oh," Dean let out a long breath. "That sounds lonely." he reflected. Life without Sammy would be hell for him.

"It get's lonesome at time," Cas said. "But I've never been good with people so it's not much of a loss."

Dean looked over at Cas, unable to help the rush of sorrow on the others behalf. Castiel was a bit odd but he shouldn't have to be alone. Even though Dean didn't have the perfect life he always had Sammy. No one should ever have to be alone.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, voice suddenly thick.

Cas looked over, confusion in his eyes. "What for? You had nothing to do with my life until a couple of weeks ago."

"Still, it's sad," Dean said.

"That's arguable, but even so it does not mean you have to apologize."

Dean sighed, knowing when he had been beat. Instead he looked up at the sky once more. He bit his lip before talking.

"I have a deadbeat father as well." he started. "He's usually dragging us around the country, ditching us at random motels for days, hell, even weeks on end. Ever since our mother was murdered he has been obsessed with finding the killer. Even when he's home he's in a drunken stupor or fighting with Sammy or both. For the first time since I was three we finally have a house and it's slowly turning into a living hell." Dean was aware of Cas's eyes on him but he couldn't bring himself to stop. "The house is a mess and I'm the only one who bothers to try picking it up. My father is jobless and my job only pays so much. More than once I've had to go without a meal or two. Dad drinks all his money away, along with mine if he can find it. I also have to get some savings into Sammy's college funds, which dad blew on the house that we might not be able to keep due to money issues. Sometimes it just gets so tiring."  
>Castiel stayed silent, as though he realized it was what Dean needed after a rant like that. Dean sat for a moment before realizing what he had done.<p>

"Sorry Cas, I didn't mean to dump all that on you. Fuck… I just haven't slept in a while and wasn't thinking."

"Dean," Cas broke in. "Don't apologize. Everyone needs to confide in someone at times. It's not a weakness."

Dean stopped with his apologies and looked down at his lap. "Thank you Cas,"

"I'll always listen if you need to talk," Cas said. He paused before adding. "Make sure I'm in the room though. I can't listen if I can't hear you." Dean snorted, unable to help himself.

Suddenly very tired he laid his head back on his car, yawning loudly. His eyes began to flutter shut and his recollect of time became distorted. As he began to fall he felt his head slipping to the side, but was too tired to make any move against it. He felt Castiel catch his head and place it on his shoulder. He felt the coarse fabric of the trenchcoat against his skin. He felt the hand that gently cradled his head to make sure it didn't fall. He felt it all but could do nothing, not that he wanted to. He was comfortable and happy for the first time in weeks.

"Dean?" Cas asked. Dean could feel the vibrations of the other boys voice and hummed in response.

Nothing was said after that. Dean snoozed on Castiel's shoulder, hovering on the brink of a deep sleep. At one point Castiel began humming, singing a few words here and there. The vibrations of Cas's voice was the final feather that sent Dean tumbling into sleep and dreams of small smiles and shining blue eyes.


End file.
